Of Thieves and Soldiers
by Serami Nefera
Summary: Eragon and Murtagh are caught in a tugawar dispute between the Vardan and the Empire. Both claim that they both only want what is best for the two young boys. Yet, what path will they choose?


This story is a response to the challenge by Silver Pup of a Childhood for Murtagh and Eragon.

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or any characters or places from his books.

Chapter 1 Thiefnapped

Eragon walked through the streets quietly as he tried to not be noticed. Despite contrary opinions on how he should act while trying to lift people's pockets was wrong. Many people thought that pickpockets would slink around in the crowd in hopes of avoiding suspicion. In his experience, slinking around like that did not only get your victim's attention but also the soldiers.

To say the least. He was not looking forward to an early morning chase with him as the prey.

He was currently in Carvahall, long ago he had attached himself with traveling performers. He gave them a third of his profits and was sheltered by them. They had learned long ago that you had to protect those who aided you in getting profits.

Kaylena was currently singing an Old Balled of two fickle lovers. He always had hated this song for it sang of a man who claimed to be head over heels in love with her as he murdered off her closest and dearest family members. The lady in the meantime was an assassin ordered to kill him at the end of the year but finding that she was falling in love with him.

The song was way too silly for Eragon's tastes. He had always loved hearing stories or songs of the Riders. But Kaylena _never_ sang them in public for she feared the King's soldiers.

He shuffled a bit like he was trying to get closer to the stage for he could not see over the people's heads. He was still growing up and was around 12 years old. He did not know when he was born actually or the month for the performers never said.

As he brushed the guy's side his small daggers gently sawed at the small string of leather. He kept his hand under it as the other hand sawed patiently. The bag fell into his nimble hands and he quickly tucked it away and out of sight. Than he let himself let out a sigh of frustration and pretended to give up and trying to get through.

He pulled away and knew that after lifting five purses that he dared not lift another. Soon an alarm would go out of a thief and as a stranger he would be one of the first to be cast in suspicion. He weaved his way skillfully to the back of the wagon and dropped the coins in his own pouch and then cast the five other pouches into the small bonfire behind the wagon. That removed any proof of his deed.

He set himself to the task of preparing the performers' meals, for they were grouchy usually if there was no food out for them.

Countless times in the past Eragon had found himself at the receiving end of their ire and did not wish to be next performances person that Jamen would be throwing his knives at. For although Jamen was skilled enough to have the knives stab only a hair breadth away from your skin, he still might be angry enough to let one 'accidentally' hit you.

He waited and listened until the performers called a halt as they grew tired and wanted a reprieve. Sarena came in and smiled at him coldly and asked, "How much did you get kiddo?"

Eragon fidgeted and said, "About 15 silvers and 20 coppers. Still it is combined with last night's take." He remembered last night, Sarena was in a rowdy mood and they had called for one as night fell, after the performances they had been so exhausted that they had fallen asleep.

Sarena's brow wrinkled in thought than said slyly, "Me thinks that it is time for us to leave on the eve of tomorrow."

Eragon felt a little saddened, despite his unlawful acts he had come to like the people of Carvahall. Although two men were exceptions for different reasons. Sloan was just a jerk and as for the other... Brom made him uneasy, as if he could tell exactly what Eragon was and what he was doing.

Sarena looked at him sharply, "Tonight Eragon. You should go out and do some house visits." Her tone was cruel as she continued, "Bring back more than you did last time, wimp." Than she stood up and left with a plate of food.

After the performers were feed and the place cleaned up Eragon went out, the sun was at it's height. They would not perform for a good many hours due to the heat.

As Eragon walked he neared the center of Carvahall, Brom sat on a porch gazing at him sternly. Eragon looked away for it was the look of one who was vastly unhappy with you. If one did not know better than you would swear that Brom was Eragon's father who caught him being naughty.

"Eragon!" Brom called out to him. Eragon stopped with a sigh and headed towards the old man. "Yes?" He asked. "May I have a few words with you?" Brom asked. Eragon shuffled slightly with worried anticipation. "I..." He was about to protest when Brom grabbed him by the shoulder and led him into the building.

Brom closed the door firmly and than said, "Eragon." His voice was layered with weariness. "I was watching the performance this morning and saw things that made me disappointed." Eragon clenched his jaw and than said, "What was wrong?" He asked.

Brom looked at him firmly, "You." He leaned forward. "Why do you travel with those performers?" He asked earnestly.

Eragon looked at him coldly, "Those 'performers' raised me from a baby. I have no other home for they are all the home I have. All I know is what they have taught me." He said with slight defensive tones in his voice.

Brom sighed, "They taught you to be a thief." He said sadly, "Ever since you were a baby?" Brom raised an eyebrow. "Why?" He asked.

Eragon glared at Brom, "Why do you..." Brom shook his head to stop his denial of Brom's accusation of being a thief. "I saw you do it." he said firmly.

Brom stood, "But this is not what I wanted to speak with you over." His expression seemed to go darker, if that was at all possible.

Brom looked at him sideways and said, "I am an agent of the Varden. We are... knowledgeable about the actions of the Empire and the King in particular."

Eragon stared at the Old Man as if he had lost his marbles. Brom raised a hand to forestall questions, "I have told you because you are in danger. I can not tell you why as of yet, but the Empire is looking for you. King Galbatorix is looking for you." Brom added as if to speak of some looming doom.

"Why would the King be looking for me!" Eragon laughed, "He would only be looking for me if he knew I was a thief! So far only _you_ seem to know that!" Eragon finally admitted, it was no use to deny Brom's knowledge.

Brom shook his head, "I cannot tell you why. What I do know is that I have heard whispers of soldiers coming here. To Carvahall, searching for a young lad maybe in early teens named Eragon." He said.

A wiry smile broke out on Brom's face, "Not many would claim the name Eragon, for it is a powerful name. And also not many of them are as young as you." He said with dry humor layering his voice.

Eragon stared at him slack jawed, "You... you are crazy!" He said as he pulled away, "You're insane!" He started to walk to the door and Brom blocked him.

"Eragon... despite what you think of me... the Empire is looking for you." Brom's voice fell quieter, "The Empire has spies everywhere. You travel in a group who call for attention and in your predicament... that it not wise."

Eragon looked at him silently and skeptically than tried to push by. Brom sighed, "I am so sorry for this... but it is for your own good!" With those final words Brom swung his fist and knocked Eragon unconscious.

Sorry that I have not yet got Murtagh into the story. I will dedicate the next chapter to him. Please tell me what you think!


End file.
